


Trying Again

by Incoherentbabblings



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Image, Communication, Dating, Dialogue Heavy, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Ice Skating, No Plot/Plotless, One Shot, POV Third Person, Post Batgirl 24, Post Red Robin 26, plot what plot only communication fluff love and empathy what what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21722956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incoherentbabblings/pseuds/Incoherentbabblings
Summary: After the Black Mercy and Captain Boomerang incidents, Tim and Stephanie decide to give dating another go.  They're older now, more settled, and haven't got the big bad bat looming over their heads.  However, there are still some issues that need ironing out. It seems like talking about them is as good a place to start as any.
Relationships: Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake
Comments: 9
Kudos: 56





	Trying Again

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after the end of Red Robin and Batgirl before the New52. I may have mixed up a fact here and there so I do apologise if so, it has been months (years in RR's case) since I have read the series from the start to finish. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!
> 
>  **Edit:** Updated grammar and minor corrections 21st November 2020.

“You need any help there?”

“Is that scathing judgement I hear in your tone Timothy?”

There was no scathing judgement, only an affection filled teasing, one that had crawled its way back into Tim and Stephanie’s conversations the past year.

“Maybe,” Tim joked.

“Then no. I do _not_ need your help.”

Stephanie was currently hanging upside down within the batcave. Barbara had sent her on a wild goose chase, claiming she needed to go up to where the bats roosted for some sort of test. Stephanie, who had been trying (and failing) to run on a high level of self-assuredness since returning from London after a successful mission with the big B himself, had taken Babs at her word, only to discover that Babs was, in the crudest of terms, just fucking with her.

So, there she was, with a broken safety belt and rope hanging perpendicular to the ground. Her core muscles were starting to ache from trying to hold herself somewhat horizontally, and she could tell her face, not hidden under any sort of cowl, was turning the one unattractive shade of purple.

What if her feet went numb? What if all the blood _did_ rush to her head? She heard stories of people _choking_ to death because, as it turned out, your lungs sat above your other organs for a reason, and they could collapse from gravity’s affect.

God she would die here, hanging like a fish on a hook in the batcave, Tim Drake (Wayne) watching, unimpressed.

And here she thought for a moment she could believe that she could be outstanding (gosh darn it she was taking that to her grave. Bruce had said she was _outstanding_. Maybe she could get Cass to promise to put it on her tombstone. Her real one. _Stephanie Brown, died as she lived, like a bat, was otherwise outstanding_ ).

“Stephanie,” Tim pleaded, folding his arms. Babs and Bruce had long since left, so it was just the two of them below Wayne Manor. Despite Tim’s loud proclamation that he was going to avoid coming back to the Manor or Bruce as regularly after their falling out –

Over what Stephanie didn’t know. Whatever it was, only Tim and Bruce knew. And Dick, weirdly, but Dick was a gossipy hen who knew everything about everyone, nefarious means or not

– Tim had started hanging out in the cave during Steph and Babs’ training sessions, looming somewhat ominously over Stephanie’s shoulders. Stephanie thought he was judging her, to see how serious she was taking Batgirl and how much she had improved.

“I don’t need your help.”

Tim pursed his lips. He was in full costume, aside from his cowl. He had cut his hair a little shorter than its shaggy length it had initially been when he had first returned home from a few months travelling the world, but it was still long enough to bury your hands into.

Not that Stephanie wanted to do that.

“Okay fine. You don’t need my help.”

“Correct.”

She twisted, but all it served to do was awkwardly flip her forward, the rope pressing painfully against her crotch in between her legs. She lifted one leg to escape the oncoming rope burn and flipped once more. She finally corrected herself, rocking upwards with such force she smacked her nose against the rope. She squeaked and jerked back like she’d been slapped.

“See?” she breathlessly shouted. “All good.”

“Can you come down?”

She looked at Tim, who stared back expectantly. She wiggled her hips, tugged at the rope, pushed and pulled the fastenings, but remained six feet off the ground, just ever so slightly above Tim’s head. She kicked uselessly, her feet just disturbing the air above his head.

“No. I cannot come down.”

“…Do you… _want_ my help?”

Frowning despondently, she nodded, refusing to wound her pride any more than necessary. Tim walked over and reached up, trying to slowly work at the tangle of rope at the base of her spine and hips.

“What did Babs do to you?”

“Deceived me. Training my butt. Maybe the training was not to trust ginger white women in wheelchairs who wear glasses. Shifty lot.”

Tim snorted. One clasp clicked open, and Steph dropped a foot. She gasped, bringing her arms and legs upwards, gripping the rope tight. She was now at Tim’s height.

“I’m not gonna crash to the floor, am I?”

“Put your feet down.”

“Huh?” she stretched out her legs, and sure enough the soles of her shoes landed solidly on the floor. “Oh,” she reached around and began to wiggle the harness off. “A waste of time if there ever was one. Got me looking for gold in the batcave… honestly.”

She went to storm off without so much as a thank you, but Tim called her name and she turned back. He looked horrendously nervous, which made concern run through her. Previous frustration forgotten, she instead went to help.

“What is it? Tim, what’s wrong? Can I do anything?”

She moved over to him and gripped his forearm. It was an overly familiar touch between what was essentially two acquaintances. Tim had taken to calling for her help more recently, checking up on how she was doing and involving her in any schemes he was cooking up, but for the most part it was her that maintained her distance. They could very easily fall into familiar habits, and she didn’t want that.

She wanted to be with Tim, almost as much as she had ever wanted anything, but it had to be explicit. It had to be asked. He had to show he was going to be more open with her. Only then could she learn to utterly trust him once more. Leaning in and kissing here and there wasn’t going to cut it anymore. Words counted more than actions.

If it were three years ago, she would have reached down and held his hand. Not that holding his bicep was much better.

She resisted the urge to squeeze his muscles.

“Aha. Um, maybe. It’s not work related though, so you can relax.”

She stared at him, feeling his tenseness in his muscles. “I’ll relax when you relax,” she said.

Tim swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing within his thin neck.

“I… last year. Okay, this is a little out of the blue, but it’s been on my mind for _weeks_ and I… When I came back to Gotham, after we saved Leslie but before we were interrupted by Ra’s and his ghoulies?”

Stephanie reluctantly remembered that night. “Uh-huh…”

“You… you said us being together wasn’t good for you, then.”

“…I did.”

“Did you mean like… forever? Or did you really mean ‘right now’? As in, maybe one day but wait a little for me?”

He was being so tentative around the subject that Stephanie couldn’t stand it. She needed him to ask his important question and put his pride and ego on the line. She said nothing, knowing it would cause Tim to babble to fill the silence.

“Because… I want to be good for you. And I have waited, and I have tried being with other people but…”

“Please just ask me the question Tim.”

Keeping their eyes locked, his bright and nervous, hers slightly scared, Tim puffed out his chest in a show of bravado. He was determined to ask confidently.

“Would you like to be my girlfriend? Again.”

She let out her breathe in a sharp, almost painful manner, her chest heaving with the effort. She didn’t inhale for a moment too long, whilst Tim waited, gradually looking more and more defeated. She finally gathered herself and smiled thinly.

“I do want to, Tim. I do.”

He grinned, reaching up to grab the hand that hadn’t moved from his arm. She allowed him to do so. He took a step closer, but she took a step back. He froze, the gears in his head turning as he read her sad expression.

“But you…can’t? Yet, still?”

She intertwined their fingers. “Can we talk? Upstairs?”

Tim nodded, moving away to get changed. Stephanie went to find Alfred to ask for two mugs of hot chocolate to be made, and to be directed into which living room was best for a _Yes let’s date but we need to lay down some rules first_ discussion.

She stood in the brightly lit room, fingers brushing over fringed lampshades. She looked at the portraits of older Wayne family members. Along the mantel there were smaller photographs of the current iteration, Dick as a ten-year-old, Tim at sixteen, Jason at fourteen, Cassandra at twenty-one… no Damian, not yet. Stephanie imagined Alfred was trying very hard to manufacture a reason to get a shot of the twelve-year-old.

“Hi,” Tim said, announcing his arrival into the room. He stood for a moment, picking at his sweater, then spied the drinks on the coffee table. He walked around to sit on the sofa and picked up the drink. Not taking any sip, he warmed his eternally cold fingertips on the ceramic. Stephanie moved to sit next to him but did not pick up her drink.

“Hi,” she started. “Okay. So. Yes, I want to date you again. But I think we should… do things properly. Not just, I dunno, fall into each other again. We’ll make the same mistakes.”

Tim stared into his chocolate uncomprehendingly. “Do things properly?”

“No more lying. Or omissions of truth. From either of us. There’s no reason to anymore. I know you, you know me, and we know what Bruce is like. I don’t need his approval anymore, and you are your own superhero who answers to no Bat,” she said the last part fondly, but Tim’s expression tightened minutely. She quietly noted to herself to ask what had happened between them the other month. Tim nodded in agreement.

“Done. I’ve been trying, to keep you in the loop with what I’ve been doing on patrols…”

“Not just that. Stuff like…how’s work going? What’s Dami done to piss you off this week? You can trust me with that sort of stuff.”

“The fact that you have a nickname for Damian is probably up there…”

Stephanie coughed then reached for her hot chocolate. The marshmallows had half melted into the liquid. She took a sip, then made a little happy noise at Alfred apparently adding vanilla syrup to the batch.

“Promise, Tim? I promise too.”

“I promise.” Rubbing his hands on his thighs, he chewed his lip. “Okay, I have one. Be patient with me? I am proud of you and I know you’re killing it but I still… I still have that voice in the back of my head. What if what if…”

“Worried about worrying?”

“Essentially. It’s not you Steph it’s… it’s me,” Tim glugged a large amount of chocolate, embarrassed at himself. Stephanie could only smile fondly.

“That’s okay. I might get jealous sometimes. I used to think that I wasn’t enough, to hold you to me. But I think that will have to come with time.”

“I can give that. So… communication and patience? Sounds pretty good to me,” he seemed quite pleased at himself at breaking down the basic requirements of a healthy relationship. He began to drink more of his beverage, but Stephanie had more to say.

“One more thing.”

He side-eyed her and gulped nervously.

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go on more dates than we used to. We were happiest when we did go out, and not just for punching corner shop burglars.”

Tim thought of movie theatres. Of the Old Wayne Tower, of the park, of libraries, of cafes and diners and shops, and felt the warmth of nostalgia grow in his chest.

“Sure! That old diner has closed now, but maybe we can—”

“Let’s go somewhere new,” she moved in close now. “I love those memories, sitting in that piano shop with you, talking about everything… That’s what I want. But they’re memories. I want happy ones in other places. We can’t stay stuck waiting for that time to come back. It can’t.”

“No… Well, where do you want to go? It doesn’t even have to be in Gotham anymore, you know, dating the rich kid of Bruce Wayne and all that. Fair warning though. You saw the mess that Tam got being with me in the press, that’ll…that’ll come your way too.”

“Ah. So, she got the racist takes, I’ll get the classist. Can’t wait,” she rolled her eyes and moved in even closer. “But I get you. You still love me?”

“Never stopped,” he spoke quietly, but not because he was embarrassed. Quietly and gently, she kissed his cheek. He exhaled like he was exorcising a demon, and Stephanie saw his muscles relax. He had been trembling. She stayed close to him, and he had to ask, “And you?”

“Never been anyone else. Not even for a second.” Unlike Tim, she hadn’t really tried anything with other boys besides the awkward flirt here and there. She wasn’t very good at relationships. Tim seemed to prefer them though.

The raw joy that appeared on his face when she spoke, like she could only have made him happier by returning his parents to him, in the simplest of terms, made her feel adored.

Tim surged forward without really asking for permission, closing the minute gap between them. It had been three years but kissing him felt as good as she remembered.

He broke away quickly. “Sorry. That was too much.”

She shook her head and tugged him back to her. Burying a hand in that thick hair, Stephanie opened her mouth and Tim began to incessantly tug on her waist, trying to pull her on his lap. She couldn’t help it and let out an exaggerated moan when he bit her lip. God it felt –

“Not on my couch.”

Stephanie jolted back with such force she flipped back over an arm rest, do a full rotation to land correctly on her feet. Bruce was standing in the doorway, white shirt and black work trousers perfectly pressed even after (half) a day in the office. Tim remained frozen, one leg up on the couch, arms fallen by his side, staring at nothing. His expression was tense, clenched jaw and mouth nearly in a sneer. Stephanie hadn’t seen Tim look so genuinely spite filled in a long time.

Bruce didn’t look truly angry, not to her at least, but he had a point. His grandparents had probably bought that couch. Who were Tim and Stephanie to swap spit on it? She glanced at the clock and knew it would be getting dark soon.

“I can go,” Stephanie uttered, making her way to the door and push past Bruce.

“Wait!” Tim called out. She knew he was being deliberately inflammatory and provocative, but she allowed Tim to rush up and plant another kiss on her. “We’ll do something this weekend.”

Bruce didn’t look too pleased, but his expression softened somewhat when he looked at Stephanie.

“I’ll give you a lift home,” he declared. Tim looked outraged at the thought, but could offer no sound reason to butt in. Stephanie felt she couldn’t refuse and went to grab her bag and thank Alfred for the drink.

The car ride was as awkward as to be expected. Stephanie held her backpack tight to her chest, buckled in the front seat of one of Bruce’s many, many, _many_ nice cars.

It was only when he pulled up to her house, then switched off the engine did Bruce speak.

“How recent is that…display in the living room?”

“Uhh… like, five minutes?” Her nervousness fled as she laughed uncomfortably to an unresponsive Bruce, and her hackles rose. “Why? Don’t you approve? I thought you like me now!”

Bruce shook his head, replying, “I never not liked you Stephanie.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. “Then what’s the issue?”

Bruce shifted, resting his hand on the steering wheel. Stephanie suddenly felt sixteen again, when Bruce had finally accepted her (for the first time) and had revealed Tim’s name to her. They had sat, in their other costumes, in the other car, talking of Tim. She grew annoyed at Bruce’s silence.

“Tell me! Is it me or is it Tim? You’re fine with me as a person you’re fine with me as Batgirl but you are not fine with me as a partner to your son, is that it?”

Saying it out loud was striking more nerves than she dared admit even to herself. Not even two hours into being with him and she was already feeling unworthy.

Bruce still said nothing, but shook his head once more, like he didn’t know how to say what he wanted. Stephanie’s anger shifted to melancholy.

“What’s happened between you and Tim? He was so happy that you came back but then…”

“…That… is something for me and Tim to work through. Don’t worry about that.”

“I don’t like seeing him upset. Especially not at you.”

Bruce’s face softened at her open compassion, but he didn’t give anything away. “I don’t think he’d appreciate finding out you’d heard my side of the story first. He should know he did wrong. He’s too angry to realise it. You two getting close again… I don’t know if this is him trying to get himself to a better place or if it will collapse and make everything more difficult for him.”

“…I don’t understand.”

“No. Just… Make sure he is honest with you.”

“Please don’t use me against him again.”

Her plea was sad and tired, and Bruce looked sorry and guilty in response.

“I want what’s best for both of you. Tim has been struggling ever since you and his father… I want to think this is part of an upward climb for him.”

“Then let me help him. Let me talk to him. Don’t put weird thoughts in my head and don’t put pressure on him,” she unbuckled her seatbelt, trying to end the conversation. “Are you angry at him? Disappointed?”

“Worried.”

“As any good dad would be,” she joked gently. Bruce smiled, in his usual manner of smiling, indulgently and not entirely sincerely. Stephanie opened the door and got out. “Give him a bit more time. Give us some time. And thank you for the lift home. Saved me busing across town.”

“You’re welcome, Stephanie.”

“I’m gonna stay in tonight, got some college work to cram. I’ll see you and the family later okay? Call if it’s an emergency!”

And then she was gone, trotting up to her house. The living room light was on, likely meaning her mother was home. Bruce kept his eye on the house even after she had shut the door. He waited one more minute, then switched the car back on, and returned home.

Tim, after returning to his own apartment, had messaged Stephanie that night, checking that she had managed to get home and Bruce hadn’t whirled her off to somewhere like the UK again.

 _Did something happen between you two?_ she’d texted.

Tim screwed up his face, glaring at her words.

_Because I asked him, and he said that it wasn’t his story to tell. Said he’s worried about you. Can I help? Do you want to talk?_

Tim stared at her words, still unable to come up with a response. A minute passed and finally Stephanie texted again.

_I told him to let you be. And me. I don’t want him to use me like last time… Please don’t be mad._

That was enough to make his fingers move and type a response.

_Not mad at you._

_Promise?_

_Promise. I can’t explain over text. Too long winded. You don’t need to worry._

_Let’s go out tomorrow. Can’t wait until the weekend. I’m free after 1. You?_

Glad to see she was just as keen as him to make up for lost time, Tim responded enthusiastically.

_OK! Can pick you up on campus? Library?_

_Sounds good. Pick somewhere nice in Gotham for us to go. Have a good night Tim._

She ended the text with a dozen kisses. Awkwardly, Tim was unable to think of a suitable response, so resorted to sending a gif of a baby falling asleep with the caption sweet dreams. She obviously thought it was cute and sent back a heart eyed emoji.

He smiled at his phone, then set it aside. An ugly twisted ache developed in his chest when he realised Bruce was already starting to meddle. Tim was trying to move past what had happened with Boomerang, he was trying to prove to Stephanie that he was in a better place, that he was ready to be there for her and take care of them both. It hadn’t taken half a day before Bruce had interfered, making Stephanie worry and Tim worry in response.

She didn’t know that he had tried to kill Harkness, and Tim was suddenly petrified of how she would react. What if she didn’t understand? She had grown so much, moved away from her anger that initially drove and defined her. Maybe she would look at Tim and not see anyone worth the effort or strain.

And yet she was right. There couldn’t be any more lying or omissions of truth. Tim wanted them to be partners, for real this time. She’d see him at his worse, just like he would for her. Tim could only hope that Stephanie felt Tim at his best was worth the troubles.

* * *

Tim stayed out late and slept around four hours between five and nine in the morning. When he drove to pick up Stephanie, he deliberately chose to drive his red car in.

He’d come up with a couple of choices for potential date sites, admittedly a few depending on the clothes Stephanie had opted for. Tim hoped she still preferred jeans and t-shirts over dresses and skirts.

Sure enough when he pulled up to the campus he spotted her on the steps to the main building, she was wearing black converse and knee high socks. An oversized hoodie hid most of her denim shorts, and she had on a pink waterproof jacket to top it off. She looked cozy and cute. Tim had noticed that she had recently taken to pulling attention downwards, to her legs and feet, and away from her chest and stomach. She seemed to have developed a taste for baggy shirts but tight trousers. Not that Tim minded, Stephanie had legs for days, but something had been triggered since the Black Mercy incident. The tight tank tops she used to throw on were nowhere to be seen.

His musings vanished when he saw how her face lit up when she recognised his car. She picked up her backpack and skipped down the steps towards him. Taking a risk to be fined or collect a ticket for parking in a drop off spot, Tim left the car to greet Stephanie properly.

They kissed for probably a moment too long, but Tim was enjoying too much the feeling of Steph’s smiling lips on his. She grew slack in his hold and only broke away when a nasally voice called her name.

“Whose face are you sucking Stooooh my god.”

Stephanie looked to Tim like she was trying very hard not to sneer. Instead she ground her teeth and put on a deliberately cheerful voice.

“Jordanna, this is Tim Drake... Wayne. Tim, this is Jordanna... She’s one of my classmates.”

Jordanna’s pretty jaw seemed to fall ever closer to the floor. Tim could tell just by looking at her that she was someone to be endured, not liked. He also remembered vaguely Stephanie complaining about this girl, saying she had jumped on the hype train of Batgirl being a murderer a few months back for the purpose of getting out of doing an exam of all things. He decided to tease the spoilt girl. 

“Oh yeah, you mentioned her once or twice. Hi!”

Jordanna went to offer her hand to shake, but Tim refused to take it, instead keeping his arms wrapped around Stephanie. Jordanna let her hand fall limply.

“How do you two meet?”

“I’ve known Steph since I was fourteen? Just bumped into each other in town right?”

“Well, that’s one way to put it,” Steph muttered. “Listen Jordanna we have to head—”

“Where?” she interrupted, face growing redder by the second. Her shock had turned to anger, like she was going through the different stages of grief. Tim felt Stephanie grow increasingly uncomfortable, and gently nudged her towards the car.

“Just a date. It’s good to still do those in a long-term relationship, right? So you don’t get too complacent after five years and all that... Anyway, nice meeting you Jordanna.”

Jordanna shook her head as if disagreeing with Tim, like she knew he was twisting the truth somehow. It was more likely however, that the information simply did not compute. She was so gobsmacked to see that Stephanie Brown knew and was in a relationship with Tim Drake that she said nothing, only looked like she was about to start crying. Another stage of grief maybe?

Tim got behind the driver’s seat and took off, driving away from campus. Stephanie kept her eyes on the wing mirror, watching as Jordanna remained frozen on the curb, brain short circuiting.

“She seemed something,” Tim joked.

“She’s a bitch and a bully and she’s going to give me hell for the next three months over it,” At Stephanie’s bluntness, Tim coughed. Her voice was watery when she spoke, and it made Tim pull over once more. Unbuckling his seat belt, he reached across and cradled her face. Her cheeks were as soft as they always had been. Stephanie kept her eyes stubbornly down.

“Is she worth getting this upset over?”

Stephanie turned and pressed her lips to the palm of one of Tim’s hand, kissing it incessantly.

“Steph…Stephie,” Tim quietly urged, pulling her head around to face him. Her breath caught at his pet name for her, and her eyes grew wetter being forced to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Normally I wouldn’t care what Jordanna says or does. She’s an actual _lunatic_. But…um… I had rough morning. Argued with my mom.”

“Oh?”

“She’s not happy about us getting back together.”

“Oh.”

“It’s just… it’s a lot. I’ll cope, it’s just… everyone’s got an opinion, y’know? Could really do without hearing them.”

Tim thumbed her jawline, musing, “Want me to talk to your mom?”

Stephanie’s eyes widened in utter disbelief. “I dunno, want me to talk to Bruce?”

Tim’s hands fell away. “Oh. Point taken.”

Stephanie brushed at her eyes. Her eyelashes were wet, but no tears had actually fallen. She tried to smile and change the subject.

“Do we want this date to be _tralala_ then? Where are you going? What did you pick for us?”

Tim smiled at the call back and re-buckled himself in to re-join traffic.

“I thought…” he drawled, peaking at the rear and wing view mirrors. “We could go ice skating.”

He didn’t miss the way her eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

“I heard from Cass that you are actually pretty good.”

“Don’t sound too shocked!”

“I’m not! I’ve seen you roller skate… not too different right?”

“You any good?”

“I can move forward and stop.”

“No triple axels then?”

“Sadly, no.”

They chatted about nothing in particular for the rest of the drive, Stephanie’s college work, Tim and Dick’s last mission together, a night or two out with Cassandra each…

“Have you told her?” Stephanie asked as they pulled up to the parking lot.

“Who? Cass? Haven’t seen her since last week. She’s in and out of the manor less than I am.”

“Think I’m out with her tonight. I’ll tell her then.” Stepping out of the car, Stephanie noted how empty the parking spaces where. “Oh God. Where is everyone? Mr Freeze hasn’t taken over has he?”

“Haha,” Tim said dryly. Reaching across the bonnet, he grasped Stephanie’s hand. She intertwined their fingers and squeezed tight as they walked in together. “Pulled some strings.”

“What do you mean?”

They walked straight past the reception and into the locker areas, where Tim pulled out two pairs of skates from the lockers.

“These should be in your size and broken in a little. I’ve heard they can really hurt if you don’t break them in.”

Stephanie took them, continuing to eye Tim suspiciously. “Did you rent out the whole rink for us?”

“Just for two hours,” he said, unashamed. They walked to the rink, and Stephanie was suddenly very glad for her long socks. The arena was large. Generic pop music was blasting through the speakers, echoing across the empty hall. Tim moved to sit on one of the benches and swap shoes.

“Tim!”

“What?” He didn’t know by her tone if she was genuinely angry or hurt. It made his defensiveness rise. “Do you not want to? I thought it would be nice if it was just the two of us.”

“I’m just shocked!” she exclaimed, collapsing on the seat next to him. “You’re spoiling me.”

“I mean it’s only day two… could have booked us a week in the Caribbean, if you wanted spoiling.”

“You? Sunbathing?” The image of Tim in a Hawaiian shirt, straw hat and sunglasses sipping on a mimosa was too funny not too laugh at. Even Tim looked vaguely uncomfortable with the idea.

“I said spoil you, not spoil me.”

“What would spoiling Tim Drake look like then?”

Tim shrugged. “My girlfriend putting on her skates and enjoying herself?”

“Oh, very smooth. Very charming,” she kissed his cheek, and he blushed. She did as she was told, and unlaced her boots, kicking off her shoes with her toes.

Tim tried to focus on lacing up the skates, but his eye was drawn to Stephanie’s inner thigh, at the section of skin not hidden by her socks or shorts. A gnarled looking scar peaked out from the top of the socks, like someone had taken a ragged knife to her. It had been years, but Tim still felt guilty seeing her scars.

Stephanie soon noticed Tim’s staring and sharply tugged her sock back up.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she murmured, fingers lingering on her leg. “I dunno why. I’ve just gotten really self-conscious over them recently. Before I thought they were something to be proud of, like look at what I’ve been through and yet I’m still here. Now though, I just – I dunno. This is weird. I just don’t like the idea of people looking at me. Judging me. It's gotten worse recently.”

“It’s not weird, Steph. It’s completely understandable.”

She smiled tight lipped, knowing what Tim was saying was probably true but unable to convince herself of it.

“Batgirl is fine. Batgirl has her crap together. Stephanie is a little bit more on shaky ground again.”

Tim only listened, not sure what to say. He didn’t to make it about him, because at least Stephanie had one aspect of her life in order, whereas Tim felt neither Red Robin nor Tim Drake-Wayne had any clue of what they were doing. If Tim were still honest with himself, he still felt directionless, and had done ever since he had brought Bruce home. The fact that Bruce had been so harsh in his judgement of Tim regarding Harkness had Tim in his most self-loathing moments wonder if he should have even bothered to go looking for his adopted father. How much better would things have been if he had stayed home, like Dick, Stephanie and Cassie had begged him to.

“You’ve done so well,” he finally managed to say. “To come back the way you did, tough as nails, and to earn Batgirl, to get into college…Steph that all counts for so much. Everyone who knows you are in awe of you, you know that right?”

“Knowing is one thing. Believing it…”

“Hmm. I get that. But believe me? No imposter syndrome here. I know you; I know you’re the real deal. And any strangers that judge you aren’t worth the gravel under your feet.”

Her chest shook with silent laughter. “How come our dates always circle around to my self-esteem issues huh?”

He pulled her in so close that she was practically sat on his lap.

“’Cause it’s worth talking about. If it helps you.”

“It does.”

More kisses, soft and short but bountiful and so close, Stephanie could feel Tim’s eyelashes brushing her skin. He must have really missed her, to be as physically affectionate as he had been once given explicit permission to be so once more. They sat together for a moment, staring at the ice rink, before Tim finally spoke.

“Wanna skate?”

“Yup.” They rose, Tim more awkwardly than Steph, and made their way over to the entrance to the rink. Stephanie stepped on and after a brief moment of adjustment, set off for the centre. She sped back and forth, up and down the arena, getting used to the feel of the ice under her feet and the shoes she skated on.

Tim gripped the wall, but watched as Stephanie swung round once, raising her leg to get momentum. Once she entered a spin, she brought her arms and legs in tight, spiralling round and round in a manner that made Tim dizzy from watching her. Her blonde hair flew out from her, making her look like a golden and pink blur. As she slowed down, she lost her balance a bit, and jerked backwards before correcting herself with a laugh. Eyes sparkling, she made her way back to Tim. Jokingly, she raised her hands to her chin, tilting her jaw to rest in the palm of her hands, and smiled cutely.

Tim kicked out to meet her part of the way.

“Wow,” he uttered.

“Thanks. C’mon.” And she grabbed his hand, pulling him to follow her. She waited until Tim had gotten used to skating on the ice, then began to gently pull his arms out around her. She felt confident enough to skate backward, occasionally directing Tim to twirl her or to swing them round as a pair, as if they were ballroom dancing. He wasn’t as fluid as her on the ice, but maybe it was something they could do together again.

The two hours passed very quickly, especially after a game of tag which had resulted on Tim face planting twice and Stephanie careening across the ice three times, once on her back, twice on her butt. In the final instance Tim threw himself across the floor to crash into her. The pair slid until the smacked into the rink barrier, legs and arms flailing.

“Ooft! Tim! Oh God, I’m gonna be so bruised tonight!”

Any pain from her smacking her head on the metal fence was negated by the sound of Tim’s laughter. It was loud and a little obnoxious, but it had been genuinely years since she had heard it, and even longer since she had been the cause. He turned so his head was resting on her lap. Her butt was getting colder by the moment, but that didn’t stop her from running her fingers through his hair. Their laughter died down, and they remained content on the ice to just stare at each other.

A member of staff informing them that their time was up broke their bubble, and after a stumble or two, they managed to get off the ice and back into their regular shoes on the benches aside the arena. The regular crowds made their way on, half for recreational skaters, the other half for four or five girls and boys in training outfits, practicing for some event or competition. Stephanie watched as they jumped and span and smiled. Tim went to return the boots and managed to return with nachos and two coffees.

“Oh, wow you are spoiling me Tim,” she took a large gulp of the cheap coffee and shuddered, feeling the hot liquid move down her chest. Tim meanwhile had taken the dignified route of picking up too many nachos in one go and had managed to drip salsa down his shirt.

“Oh God…” He said, awkwardly swatting at the stain only to rub it in deeper. He frowned, lower lip quivering, and drank coffee to console himself. Stephanie contented herself to a chip at a time. They sat and watched people for a good fifteen minutes after they had finished their meal and drinks. It was a companionable silence, and Stephanie moved to rest on Tim’s shoulder, holding his hand tight.

“Do you want to tell me about why Bruce is so worried about you?” she asked.

She felt Tim tense next to her.

“I… Not here. Work stuff.”

“Let’s go then. Out of the city so no-one’s listening in.”

Tim blinked, but nodded. He moved to thrown away their rubbish, whilst Stephanie returned to their lockers, retrieving their bags. When Tim found her again, she pulled him close for a kiss. She hoped it was reassuring, that whatever had happened between Tim and Bruce, she just wanted to help Tim.

She waved goodbye to the staff, who were muttering to themselves about the pair. One or two folks did a double take when they realised who she was walking with.

It was going to take some getting used to. She’d just finished explaining to Tim that she didn’t want people to look at her, and yet by being with Tim, by being with one of the people she trusted most in this world, she was opening herself up to even more critiques and judgements than she had ever endured in the past.

Thinking of his warm hold, reassuring words and sweet breath and kisses, however, reminded her that it was worth it. No one else made her feel as safe as he did. Not in the same way as Bruce, Babs or Cassandra. Less a safety for her body, more a safety for her heart. He was still painfully gentle, even after all this time. He cradled and stroked and touched, but did not pull, grab, or push, as if a too forceful movement would break her heart. Like he’d said, Tim knew she could take the physical punishment, but knew she was more emotionally vulnerable than she let on. She would lead where the relationship would go, because he was trying to trust her to know what was best for them as a pair.

What they needed now was to get the looming figure of Bruce off his shoulders.

* * *

The drive was nice out of the city. Tim knew a sightseeing spot that wasn’t overrun during the early evening, so when they pulled up, there was one truck further down the path, and from the looks of it the owner was nowhere to be found.

Tim turned off the engine and encouraged Stephanie to sit on the bonnet with him. She curled around him, feeling his heartbeat and warmth, and sighed happily. Tim gently nudged one of his legs between her own and held her hand that was resting on his heart.

“Tell me,” she murmured, rubbing her face on his chest like a cat.

“Okay… whew. Okay. So, Captain Boomerang, the man who killed my father, he…came back from the dead for various Justice League end of the universe reasons and… he got out of jail recently. I had gone to see him, after I got ‘shot’ in the spine—”

“Why?” Stephanie interrupted.

“Huh?”

“Why would you… What were you hoping to gain, from seeing him?”

“I don’t know. To check that what I’d heard was true. I couldn’t know for sure it was him until I saw. Or maybe I just wanted to torture myself. He’s alive. My dad isn’t.”

“Oh sweetie…” rubbing his chest, she let him continue.

“And he just… he was mocking me. And my dad. And then he _escaped_ and I…” he gulped and decided to simplify what had occurred. “I tried to kill him.”

Stephanie frowned, deep in thought, but otherwise gave no discerning clues of what she was feeling.

“I set him up, made sure he’d go exactly where I wanted and make the all the wrong choices, all so that I could look him in the face and let him fall off a building and break his neck.”

“But you didn’t. I saw on the news the other day. He had a run in with the Flash.”

“No. I didn’t kill him. Just as well really, Bruce and Dick were watching. Dick spoke to me first, said I’d made the right choice, and that was all that mattered when it came down do it. I guess he understood, after what happened with the Joker but… Bruce didn’t agree. The fact that I’d created that situation for Harkness in the first place…”

“That’s why he’s worried for you?”

“Yes,” Tim suddenly became agitated and sat up, displacing Stephanie. “Like he has the right to judge! I don’t need his guidance anymore, I don’t want his approval. It’s my city as much as his, and it’s not fair! Why can a guy like Captain Boomerang come back, but my mom and dad can’t! He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve to be alive and I only stopped because I _knew_ they were watching but I don’t care. If he comes back to Gotham…”

The threat hung in the air whilst Tim caught his breath. Stephanie stared sadly at him, now understanding Bruce’s warning to her. She had a lot to say, but she could only hope Tim was patient and willing enough to listen.

When the silence grew uncomfortable, she whispered,

“You don’t want to kill him.”

He looked at her incredulously. “Yes, I do, Steph.”

She shook her head. “No. You want justice for your dad. The universal justice that failed by having him come back, and the human justice that allowed him to leave prison unreformed. You think you can get that justice by killing him. See the difference?”

“Don’t be pedantic. It’s the same end result.”

“But it’s not!” She held his left shoulder with both hands, trying to make him understand. “You may be responsible for Gotham just as much as Bruce, but what about me? I’ve lived here all my life; don’t I get a say in what happens to the people within it? What if I agree with Bruce? No killing?”

With that sentence he became distraught, and his heart broke. “No! Don’t you dare side with him! Don’t—”

“Then follow it through with me. Like a logic problem,” she interrupted calmly, refusing to indulge his outburst. “What if you agree with Jason? What if there are some people who are just… too dangerous to be left alive? You kill Harkness, and you live with that, the knowledge that you deliberately ended someone’s life. What then? If I asked you to kill my dad. Would you?”

He stared at her, “What?”

“You remember when we first met. I was ready to strangle him before I was talked out of it. He’s done nothing but hurt me, my mom and countless others since. He infected me with the Black Mercy, knowing that it would kill me. He won’t change, he won’t reform. He’s too weak. He came back, for reasons I don’t know. Maybe it was the same as Harkness, maybe it was something else. But he’s a walking threat to my mom and me. He’ll get out of prison, he always does. So… he needs to die. It’s the only way mom and me will be safe right? Would you do it for me? I’m asking you to do it.”

Tim said nothing. His cheeks were wet, eyes blood shot. But Stephanie pressed on, “What about Black Mask? Sionis _is_ dead… but according to you, that’s not a guarantee anymore. What if he comes back? What if…” 

Huffing, she made a decision and backed away from Tim on the car. She took off her coat then, then her hoodie, then the t-shirt she had on. It was the first time Tim had ever seen her in her underwear, but all he could look at was the gashes that lined her torso. There was one from her collar bone to her armpit, like someone had tried to hack off her arm. He gulped and tried to look Stephanie in the eye and she continued, “What if he comes back and hurts me again? You think him being dead makes the memories fade? You think him being dead makes these scars any more bearable?”

“Steph…”

“I understand! I do. I understand how much pain you’re in, and you have no idea how much I wish I could take it away. But I can’t Tim… only you can do that. And I don’t think killing the man who murdered your father will make that pain fade. Only a type of justice that gives you closure will allow you to start to heal. Death isn’t justice. It’s just _death_. The end of the line and nowhere left to go.”

He closed his eyes, tears slipping out, and shook his head. “So what? They go in and out of jail until they croak of old age behind bars or one day, they magically see the light and the error of their ways? C’mon Steph, the world doesn’t work like that.”

“I didn’t say the other option was much better. It just leaves the smallest chance for healing,” she sighed and cradled his cheek, fully aware that she still in her bra. “I wish he’d stayed dead too. But doing it again by your hands… it’s not the answer and Bruce and Dick know that. And you know it too. Even if you won’t admit it to yourself.”

Tim began to cry in earnest. Deep, heaving sobs that made him unable to breathe properly. He reached out for Stephanie, who gratefully pulled him in tight. 

“I love you so much,” she said. “I wish you didn’t have to deal with this but I’m here. I’m with you always from now on okay? No matter what you choose, in the end.”

“You’re too good,” he warbled, her shoulder and collar getting wet. “You’re too idealistic too…”

“Huh. I knew a pretty sweet fourteen-year-old once. He was so idealistic he thought not paying for a soda was a slippery slope.”

Tim’s laugh was wet and broken but genuine. 

“I want justice for my dad,” he repeated. “And I thought Harkness being dead was the only way.”

“Did you feel justice had been served when he was dead? Before?”

“I… not really. Part of me wanted him to suffer more. But that’s vengeance.”

“That’s not why we help in Gotham.”

“No.”

“Tim? Why do you help now?”

“…I don’t know how to do anything else.”

Her heart broke a little. She had spent so much of her career at Batgirl trying to figure out why she couldn’t stop. Tim had been doing it for so long he had forgotten why. She pulled back and wiped at Tim’s cheeks as he had done for hear a few hours ago. She smiled, and he managed to smile back. It was hollow, and quickly became despondent.

“Bruce… he thinks I’m two steps away from murdering all of Arkham.”

“He’s just worried.”

“He doesn’t trust me.”

“We’ll give him reasons to.”

He tilted his head. “We?”

“Mmhmm. I’m with you, remember? And Bruce can get stuffed if he doesn’t, okay?”

“Okay.”

Stephanie’s smile became coy, and she leaned back on the hood of the car, still casually in her underwear. Admittedly it was cold, and she was near shivering, but she had one more point to make before getting dressed again. Tim’s eyes trailed away from her face but snapped back when she spoke. He was very much trying to not leer at his half naked girlfriend sprawled across his car.

“Why did you ask me out? What triggered it?”

“I… I wanted to move past last year. Wanted to show that I was in a better place. That I could be with you again and not have it all fall apart,” he rubbed at his eyes like a tired child. “Wanted more _tralala_ to be honest.”

Stephanie arched her back and smirked at Tim’s not so subtle staring. There was one person she didn’t really mind looking at her after all.

“Why’d you say yes? What changed?”

Stephanie raised both hands in an exaggerated shrug. “Well, you asked me for one thing, didn’t just try to smooch me on a rooftop and cheat on Tam with me,” Tim had the grace to blush shamefully. “And yeah, I’d seen the efforts you’ve been making at work, with Damian… with me. You never stopped loving me, I never stopped loving you. We’ve grown up. There’s no reason to fall back into old habits. I wanted my sweet, handsome, gentle boy back. Only this time he would talk to me a bit more. And in return I would keep my insecurities in check, or at least voice them before they grow into a monster.”

“Well, there you go. Good start. Good first date.”

Leaning up, she tilted her head to rest on her left shoulder. Her golden hair fell down to her mid back, like a yellow curtain. “You want it to be over?”

Biting his lip, he stared a bit more at Stephanie’s bra.

“Humm.”

She laughed, “Pass me my tops. Let’s go back to yours, yeah? Freezing out here.”

Tim had enough wits about him to realise what Stephanie was implying, and practically fell off his car fumbling for her clothes.

“Yes… yes. My apartment. Yes. Great. Yes…”

He watched as Stephanie redressed.

“Steph?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she put her arms out and Tim picked her up from the car. She clung to him like a koala bear as he swung her from side to side.

Breathing into her hair, he said, “I’ll make you believe you’re outstanding. Even if I have to say it every day, it’s fine, ‘cause it’s the truth. Bruce wasn’t being manipulative then. He’s right.”

She laughed loudly and clearly, “Oh good. Please, tell me everyday. Put it on my tombstone if you must. Even if I die from something stupid, like yesterday afternoon’s abseiling experience.”

Opening the car door for her, Tim snorted as she climbed in. “What? Something like, _Stephanie Brown, died as she lived – like a bat – but was otherwise outstanding?_ Something like that?”

Stephanie could only blink as he shut the door on her.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I received a request on tumblr to write about Tim and Steph's first date after they got back together pre!New52 and what I imagine that would be like. Thus this monstrosity was born. It actually fits quite neatly into my "Mad as a..." story if you wanna read that after, but this stands on it's own and is really just a chance for Tim and Steph to make out and heal together.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a comment and kudos if so! I'm on tumblr under the same username and am always happy to receive requests. No promises but you never know I might end up writing 8,000 words for it so...worth a go?


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